


A Little Slice of 2077

by Nebulad



Series: Whiskey Molotov [6]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5538434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re gunna kill me, hollerin’ like that,” he said as he made his way down the stairs.</p><p>“You say that about everything I do,” she protested, still enchanted by whatever was inside the dome. She was clicking buttons frantically but he didn’t think she was getting anywhere.</p><p>“Kind of hoping if I go it’ll be because of a perfect ten,” he said, nudging her as he finally got down the stairs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Slice of 2077

The old Fallon’s Department Store seemed fucking sketchy to Hancock, and not just because to get in you had to wade waist deep through supermutants (although he could have done without that part to be honest). It stunk of Old World in a way that nowhere else really did- sure there were old buildings that were still standing like the Old State or the Memory Den, but they’d been properly cannibalized. Antique furniture had been smashed up and thrown out, new cloth had replaced moth-eaten shreds of rug, and most of the buildings had been inhabited by people other than giant people-eating boogers for years. You didn’t feel the Old World in Goodneighbor or Diamond City or even Sanctuary.

He felt 2077 distinctly in the crumbling kitchen displays and half-functioning terminals whose flickering screens spat out broken ads against the silence. It put him kinda on edge to walk in between the vapid mannequins that weren’t quite the same as the ones the Raider’s took and set up to distract snipers, the ones who still had shreds of pink old world dresses and dusty greying suits. Even the threat of imminent death by supermutant couldn’t wholly distract him from the rows and rows of cabinets and kitchen appliances.

They cleared the place out, though, because where would they scav better shit? They figured they had a pretty good chance of tripping on something good since what normal scavver would fuck with supermutants for a fucking toaster? Plus Audrey wanted to test out the new scope on her rifle, and actually managed to off about three before they finally noticed her crouched on one of the es-kah-lay-tors and started shooting.

Eventually the place was quiet again except for Audrey rummaging through garbage and occasionally saying rude things to inanimate objects that wouldn’t cooperate with her. He didn’t really think they were gunna find anything the mutants had left untouched, but he was content to keep watch while she told a toaster to go fuck itself for being in the way of grabbing some old empty packets of mentats.

He didn’t keep very _close_ watch, clearly, because he was sprawled out on one of the least gory couches and flipping through a relatively unburnt hair magazine when he heard Audrey shout. Panic shocked through his ribcage and he darted from the small rotunda over to the edge of the balcony. “Hancock come fucking see this!” she shouted, waving him down to the ground floor. She had her hands pressed on a glass dome and he clutched his chest dramatically.

“You’re gunna kill me, hollerin’ like that,” he said as he made his way down the stairs. Audrey called them es-kah-lay-tors and said that they’d moved and people just stood on them and got dragged up to the top, but Hancock wasn’t sure he believed it. She said a lot of wild shit about the pre-war world and he was willing to accept a lot of it because she had no reason to lie, but he had to draw the line somewhere.

“You say that about everything I do,” she protested, still enchanted by whatever was inside the dome. She was clicking buttons frantically but he didn’t think she was getting anywhere.

“Kind of hoping if I go it’ll be because of a perfect ten,” he said, nudging her as he finally got down the stairs. She was trying to get at a little pink and yellow slice of cake that sat pristinely in it’s glass coffin, sort of weirding him out with how… preserved it was. Fallout hadn’t touched that specific piece of cake and he wondered if he really found it that creepy or if Fahrenheit had slipped something into his jet and forgot to mention.

“The thing is broken,” she said, shoving at the glass. “The hook thing isn’t scooping the plate.”

“Is it supposed to?” He vaguely remembered that the Dugout Inn had this same thing, with another piece of cake inside it. That one was a bit more sunbleached than this, hidden in the little corner in the boarded up old store.

“Yeah, you shoved a coin in and the hook would scoop up the plate and put it on the rolling thing and it’d come out the chute,” she explained, waving her hand vaguely.

“Nick told me you were real good with machines, and I never thought to doubt him ‘til just now,” he teased. She shoved him playfully, slamming the button to activate the machine again. He watched the weird metal claw open and descend on the cake. Two prongs slipped under the rim but the third grasped uselessly at the surface and the plate spun a little and then fell back still as the claw rose again to deposit a prize it didn’t have on a conveyor belt.

She did this about ten more times before he put up his hands. “What?” she snapped, frustration making her flush red even in the dim light of her Pip-boy.

“Well I figure you’ve been at it for a while now,” he said, and she nodded impatiently. “So maybe I'll finally step in.”

“What, you can push the button better than me?” she asked tersely. He gestured for her to step backwards and she did, shuffling over to the table he’d abandoned. She shoved one of his snack cakes in her mouth and chewed it with a sulk.

He stretched. He cracked his knuckles. He shuffled over and wordlessly pressed a finger to his cheek; she kissed it for good luck, rolling her eyes only a little bit. He took a second to loosen himself up and she settled down in the chair, waiting patiently for the moment when he would finally hit the fucking button.

Hancock whipped his shotgun off of his back and rammed the butt into the glass so hard that the entire dome cracked. Audrey yelped and stood up, but Hancock managed to swing twice more and destroy the dome entirely. Like some fucking hand-of-god shit, none of the glass landed in the cake. He picked up the plate carefully and presented it back to Audrey with a flourish, grinning lazily. “Bet they couldn’t do that back in 2077.”

Audrey very gingerly took the plate and placed it carefully on their table behind her. Hancock had approximately one second then, to catch her as she jumped and only paused to latch her legs around him before kissing him. He caught himself on the destroyed cake display but had no intention of wasting any time by falling over. “Thanks John,” she breathed, finally pulling away.

“You are damn fucking welcome, sunshine,” he returned, pecking her cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> mer krimis. I mean it's like two hours into boxing day but you know what I mean. it was technically finished on xmas so w/e. my gift to you- some dumb fluff. it took for fucking ever because I got hit with that writer's block and I got so much WORK like not even school work im a fucking cashier and speaking of which I will never say no to comments to brighten my day tomorrow because im working for nine fucking hours can u believe that???
> 
> also nebulaad.tumblr.com is me, a mostly unintrusive addition to your dash if you're so inclined. I also take prompts most of the time and I mean even if you prompt me and for some reason I can't fill it (nine hour work day, im tired, im sad, whatever) I'll just save it for when I actually am able to fill it so...


End file.
